So Many Versions Of Beautiful
by fickleAdoxograph
Summary: Roderich spends some pointless time trying to figure out just what colour Gilbert's ardent eyes really are, finding his lover more complicated than he originally thought him to be. PruAus drabble. Human names used.


Roderich had never really understood how Gilbert's eyes could have been so piercing in colour. They were the most red things he had ever seen, Roderich was sure.

Sometimes he'd think it fun to mock the other, calling him a rabbit. Because he certainly had the similarities to an albino rabbit: his hair an isabelline, faint colour; his skin a pale and rough tone; and those eyes...

He had yet to put a name for that abrasive, fiery hue. Roderich could not bring himself to just call them 'red'.

They were not of a simple red colour, no. They weren't blood red nor firetruck red. They weren't crimson like Gilbert's cheeks would coat in when he found himself sheepish or humiliated. They weren't red like the lipstick Elizaveta would wear from time to time.

Could Roderich look through a list of colours, he would still not have the ability to put a label to them. He still couldn't title the tint of his lover's unique orbs.

Not that it was really that important, was it? Roderich thought himself to be quite silly for thinking this over as much as he did, but it was beginning to bother and fascinate him to no end.

Gilbert of course, had no idea what was going on in the other's head. Had he known how many hours Roderich had spent, trying to figure out just why Gilbert's eyes were the way they were, he'd think him mad. Perhaps it _was _a bit mad. They were just eyes, after all. But Roderich had seen his amount of odd coloured eyes before - he did have these very purple flushed irises himself after all - and yet it had never struck him like Gilbert's did.

Maybe it was the man himself. Because it wasn't always just the enticing lenses in Gilbert's face that made Roderich wonder sometimes. Oh no. Roderich had yet to completely figure the guy's personality out. He'd think he had it at first, but then he was proven wrong, and he had to remake the picture he had of his beloved.

Yet they were both sure that no one knew Gilbert like Roderich did. He always knew how he would react, and what cards to play to make him react the way Roderich wanted him to. He could play him like a puppet, but even though the Prussian man often got on his nerves, making Roderich want to crush him down right then and there, he would never even think about doing it.

Which was something that needn't be explained, Roderich thought. It was for obvious reasons he would not want to hurt someone he loved, just because he could.

But it felt good, knowing that he was probably the only one who Gilbert would ever truly let it.

The man wasn't as simple as others might think (including Roderich, upon first meeting the man.) He was not just this narcissistic, loud and obnoxious fool who was more sure about his own abilities than anything else, and it hadn't taken Roderich long to figure this out.

Gilbert was deep. He was vulnerable and in need to be acknowledged and loved.

Roderich would spend his life making sure that he got what he needed.

Just like he would also try to put a name to the stark carnelian of Gilbert's eyes.

So bright and deeply red, it almost took Roderich's breath away. When they darkened in the lusty moments when they were alone, he swore the shivers running down his spine were caused simply by Gilbert's gaze alone. He could do so much to him, just letting their looks meet like that. Roderich sometimes wondered if he had the same effect on his lover, but doubted it. He was just being ridiculous, thinking these things. He was exaggerating, because they were just eyes, they were just an odd colour.

But he loved that colour, just like he loved Gilbert.

Red was the colour of love, wasn't it? It was the colour of passion, and fire. Heat and lust. He found so much of that in the man, and the brilliant orbs, lashes hovering above them.

He wondered if they were some variant of brown eyes, but decided against it. They weren't chestnut or hazel or any of the like, they were just a thousand shades of red.

They were a thousand shades of red, and a million hues of crimson, and Elizaveta's lipstick mixed with the paint on a firetruck. They were so many versions of beautiful, and Roderich decided to leave it at that.

* * *

_AN: What was that? Did someone say cheesy PruAus drabble? No? Okay, well you got one anyways._

_This wasn't really supposed to happen, it just sort of wrote itself. I was looking through some list of prompts in order to get some inspiration to write a oneshot, and one of the prompts were "red eyes". This is what that led to. I hope you liked it!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of its characters._


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